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acaciusbride · 1 year

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Unconditionally: Joel Miller x OC { Part 1/10 }

Summary: Lucy loves Joel Miller unconditionally. A cross country trip to escort an immune, bad mouthed teenager to safety might just prove it.

CWs: canon typical violence / unsafe sex / age gap / language / spoilers (if anyone cares) / canon divergence / mentions of attempted sexual assault / themes of previous suicidal tendencies

Note: this work is intended for adult audiences only. It is not strictly canon compliant, and was originally posted to A03 when I first ventured into the fandom.

Unconditionally. Part One of Thirteen.

Joel doesn’t want to stay the night, not really. It feels too much like invading the peace, too much like an intrusion, even though Bill and Frank are dead. Maybe that’s precisely why it feels that way.

It feels too much like an intrusion, and he’s lost enough, as of late. He didn’t much like Bill, and he’s certain that feeling was mutual. Grudgingly, he admits he didn’t mind Frank so much. He was hard to dislike, even by someone as prickly as Joel. He can’t afford to get caught up in thinking on it, not too heavily. Even with Tess gone… he has two travelling companions still relying on him. One more than the other, he supposed, on account of Ellie being a goddamn kid. Lucy, not so much. The younger woman he met by chance in the QZ isn’t bad with a weapon, and she’s good at being stealthy. All good traits in a smuggler. He never wanted a fucking apprentice, or whatever the hell she started as, but when she found out he was leaving the QZ, she’d pretty much invited herself along to “watch his dumb ass”. He hadn’t exactly argued.

As requested in the letter, he doesn’t go into the bedroom. What he does do, before he showers, is take inventory of the gas canisters, the truck, the supplies in the garage. Only once he has an idea of what they’re working with, does he relent to Ellie’s nagging and hit the shower.

For a kid, she’s persistent.

It’s not his ideal scenario, to crash for the night in the bunker Bill installed beneath his house long before the infection ever started, but it soon becomes clear to him that it’s the scenario he gets.

Ellie’s rubbing her eyes, clearly exhausted but making a show of pretending she isn’t; even the hype of the handgun she pocketed earlier can’t fight off fatigue. Joel doesn’t know about the weapon, nor does Lucy, and in Ellie’s eyes, the adults guarding her don’t need to know. Not yet anyway.

Lucy doesn’t look much better; there’s only so far you can go on caffeine pills and pure adrenaline, and Joel fully expects her to crash at any moment. She’s currently examining the wall of guns along the far side of the bunker, occasionally pausing to check the security cameras.

“We may as well stay here for the night.” Joel offers, because he knows Lucy wants to ask, but won’t, and he’d rather she was sharp for the journey ahead.

“You sure?” She’s not questioning him, more making certain; she knows he’s not a huge fan of staying in one place for too long. Even though the compound is protected, it still feels too exposed. Too risky.

“May as well. We can get some sleep, load up the truck and be out of here by dawn.” He’s already taking a mental inventory of everything they’ll be taking with them.

“Right.” Lucy turns her attention back to the wall of guns, running her fingers over a few, occasionally taking one down to test the weight of it, to see how fast it reloads and cocks.

Ellie, meanwhile, busies herself opening a cardboard box stamped: US ARMY MRE RATION.

“Is this food?” She turns a vacuum sealed bag over in her hands, squinting at it.

Lucy looks over her shoulder, a rifle in her hands.

“Oh, yeah. That’s old shit, but it’ll survive anything. Whatcha got there?”

“Chilli.” Ellie reads the print on the package, “and something called a snack cake? The fuck is a snack cake?”

“Exactly what it sounds like. Probably an old Twinkie.” Lucy puts the rifle back and selects another, weighing it in her hands, checking the ammunition capacity. Satisfied, she raids the ammunition cabinet nearby then sets about repacking her backpack.

“It’s safe to eat, if that’s what you mean.” Joel reaches past Ellie to snag his own freeze dried food, unsealing the package to inspect the contents.

It’s not the best meal they’ve ever eaten, but it’s decidedly better than some of the worst, and certainly enough that each of the trio made room in their backpacks for a few of the rations. Better to have ancient, somewhat tasteless food, than no food at all.

“So we’re sleeping down here?” Ellie surveys the bunker in mild amusement. They’re all aware there’s a spare room upstairs and a couch, but it feels too exposed, and too much like squatting.

“May as well. You take the cot, Ellie.” Lucy nods to the camping cot tucked away against the wall, under a rolled sleeping mat and a small stack of blankets.

“Not gonna complain.” The teen shrugs, helps move the sleeping mat and most of the blankets off the cot, then drops herself down onto the surface, pausing only to take off her new hoodie.

Joel keeps his eyes on the security cameras as Lucy unrolls the sleeping mat; it’s relatively large, they can probably both squash onto it and have enough room, and a blanket each.

“Tonight only.” He warns both woman and girl, “don’t get comfortable.”

Lucy sticks her tongue out at him. She wants to argue with him, make a smartass comment about it being impossible to get comfortable on a thin ass sleeping mat in a bunker, but she knows the road ahead is likely to be unpleasant, far more uncomfortable than the current situation.

Joel rolls his eyes, watches as she unlaces her boots and leaves them to the side of the sleeping mat; if they were anywhere else, he knows that she wouldn’t have taken her shoes off at all. But if they’re compromised in the night? Best thing they can do is wait it out in the bunker. He’s not going to begrudge her taking off her shoes, not when he plans on doing the same.

He glances over to the cot, where Ellie’s already out like a light. He has to hand it to the kid, her ability to sleep wherever the fuck they land is somewhat impressive.

Another glance, to Lucy this time, then he returns to the security feed.

“We can swap out watching the monitors, if you wanna be sure.” Lucy unfolds a thin, itchy blanket, then another. Sighs. Wool isn’t what it used to be.

“Honestly there ain’t much point, but. I’m not the type to be a sitting duck. Not that we’ve got much choice.” Joel frowns, surveys the makeshift double bed Lucy’s put together. “I can sleep in the chair.”

“At your age?” Lucy’s mouth turns up into a smirk, the way it always does when she’s teasing. He can hear it in her voice, even when she turns away from him so she can crawl under the blanket, nose wrinkled with distaste at the fabric.

“Rude.” Joel replies without rancor; honestly, the chair looks uncomfortable as hell, more so than the camping mat, itchy blankets or no.

“Don’t argue with me,” Lucy says in response, “there’s room. Besides, these blankets fucking suck. We’ll freeze down here without each other.”

Her tone is playful, makes it clear she’s just messing with him. Sighing, he takes off his own shoes, leaves them on his side of the ‘bed’, then sets his handgun down beside them, within reach. He notices she’s done the same thing, has her pistol within reach, just in case. Her new rifle isn’t far off, either. He wants to think he’s taught her well, but honestly, Lucy was a survivor before he met her.

Joel turns out the fluorescent overhead lights, leaving the bunker illuminated only by a camping lantern next to the ‘bed’ and the security feed monitors.

He strips off his coat, folding it into a makeshift pillow, then slides under the blankets, immediately feeling the slight itch of old fabric mixed with the chill of the night coming.

“These blankets do suck.” He comments as he turns onto his side, facing her. He can look over her shoulder or prop himself up to check the monitors every now and then. He doesn’t think they’ll be disturbed, not really, not down here. It’s probably the only secure night of sleep they’ll get until they’re back in the QZ, or something similar.

“Told you.” Lucy huddles under them nonetheless; he supposes it is somewhat cold down here, and it’ll only get colder during the night. That, and she gave the best blanket to the kid. Of course she did.

He looks over her shoulder to check the monitors one last time before he turns his attention back to her; she’s trying not to shiver, even in the long pants - jeans - and shirt she’s wearing.

“Fuck sake, c’mere before you wake the kid with your chattering teeth.” Again, there’s no heat in his words as he opens his arms to her. Anyone else, it might feel weird or uncomfortable, but Lucy is just…. Lucy.

She doesn’t even hesitate, even though she might have normally done so. She’s too damn cold to care, and fully aware it’ll be a long night if they don’t warm up soon.

When she’s right against him, Joel pulls the two blankets over the pair of them, adding an extra layer to her before wrapping his arms around her, rubbing his hands up her back to generate heat.

“How are you always a goddamn furnace?” It comes out muffled, on account of her face being buried in the crook of his shoulder, cheek resting on his collarbone.

“Luck of the draw.”

“Very funny.”

He can feel the curve of her smile against his neck, though, so he knows he hasn’t actually annoyed her with his sarcasm.

“Warming up?” He doesn’t want to push her away, not really. They’ve shared a bed - or a makeshift one - plenty of times, when the situation has called for it. There’s never been anything strange about it, not really, and if there’s an unspoken tension? Well, that’s not his problem. Or so he tells himself.

“Little bit.” Her lips graze his throat when she speaks, but she’s not so tense now; clearly she’s warming up, feeling more at ease than she was before.

“Good. Can’t have you come all this way just to lose you to frostbite.”

“I don’t think it’s cold en- oh.” She huffs, realising too late he was making another joke, albeit in that dry way of his.

A low chuckle escapes his throat, not laughing at her; at least, not in a mocking way, more just amused by her embarrassment and the little huff she made.

“Just tell me if you’re still cold.”

“A little,” she admits, “but I’ll take being a little cold as a fair trade for a single night of sleeping in relative comfort and safety.”

She said relative, so he doesn’t argue with her, just keeps running his hands up and down her back.

“We’ll find somewhere safe enough in Wyoming. After.” Joel says instead. He doesn’t add the unspoken rest: after they find his brother. After they find someone who can take Ellie in. Lucy understands; there are too many variables, too many things that could go wrong.

“Go back to being FEDRA slaves?” She suggests.

“If that’s what it takes to be safe, sure.”

He can’t see her roll her eyes in the dimmed light, not really, but he can almost hear her doing it.

“Safe.” She mutters, “as if that’s a reality.”

Joel hums agreement, adjusts his arm around her, tucks the blankets a little tighter around her shoulders.

They lay in silence for a few minutes, Joel watching the monitors, thinking she must have drifted off to sleep, when her soft voice breaks the near silence.

“Thank you.”

“For what? Keeping you warm?” He isn’t too sure what precisely she’s thanking him for.

“Keeping me around. Keeping me safe as best you can. I know I get on your last nerve, but I really do appreciate you.”

He can feel the heat of her breath on his skin as she speaks, hushed words into his good ear, not wanting to disturb Ellie.

“You don’t get on my last nerve.” He says finally, “and you don’t have to thank me. You watch my ass, I watch yours. It’s a good partnership.”

He can feel her smiling again.

“No longer a padawan, huh?”

It’s his turn to smile, a rarity for him.

“Those movies are older than both of us. How do you even know that phrase?”

“Keeper of my secrets, I am. Never know everything, will you.” Lucy responds, mimicking Yoda in a whisper.

Joel has to turn his face into her hair to muffle his own laugh, instead getting a good inhale of whatever shampoo she pilfered from the shower earlier. Something floral.

“Nerd.”

“I miss pop culture.” Lucy half shrugs, dislodging the blanket, then shivers and tucks herself further under his arm, pausing only to peek over at Ellie, who’s still a steadily breathing shape under her own blanket, probably a great deal warmer for not being practically on the concrete floor. Lucky kid.

“I miss good music and decent coffee.” Joel readjusts the blanket again, tucks the edges down around her shoulder to keep the chill out.

He misses about fifty other things, some things far more painful to talk about than others; he’s barely been able to talk about Sarah with her. He doesn’t know if he ever will. But he doesn’t want to ruin the good feeling between them by being a downer, even if he thinks she’ll understand, so he keeps it light.

“Gas station coffee was never decent.” Lucy counters, “but I get you.”

“Yeah? You were a Frappuccino girl, huh?”

“Latte.” She informs him, “with a flavour syrup.”

Joel snorts in spite of himself.

“And here I am giving you the shittiest black coffee in the history of shitty instant coffee.”

“That means we have access to it, so I’ll take it.” Her tone makes it plain she doesn’t mind, not really. Her preference might have once been for sweet coffees with lots of almond milk, but these days, she’ll take whatever caffeine she can find. Especially when it means he’s sharing his limited supply with her.

“You’re too kind.”

She’s laughing again, soft sounds muffled in his shoulder, but at least she’s no longer shivering.

“If you say so.” She says finally, hands flat against his chest, keeping herself as close as possible, trying to conserve heat. “I guess I should move, huh? I’m not about to freeze on you anymore, so.”

He doesn’t want her to move. Even the four or five inches they’d have between them if she did suddenly feels like too far.

“Only if you want to.” He says finally, “I don’t want you to just freeze again. I’m comfortable like this, if you are.”

Lucy shrugs against him.

“I’m not opposed to this.”

If there’s more she isn’t saying, that’s her business. Joel doesn’t pry, because quite frankly he’s not sure he wants to go down that path. Not because he finds her unappealing, but because letting someone close could have dire consequences.

So he just hums agreement, rests his chin on top of her head. Almost expects that to be the end of it, until -

“Not opposed to it, or okay with it?” He speaks before he can think it through, and he knows it. Wants to take it back almost right away, because this is precisely down the path he wanted to avoid. Apparently not. Again, he’s not blind to the tension between them, but he isn’t truly sure he wants to allow someone to get close to him. Not after so many losses.

“What a leading question.” Lucy tilts her head against his shoulder.

“That’s not an answer.” If he’s going to walk this path, he may as well walk it properly. Or maybe she’ll save them both the awkwardness and just go to sleep.

“Do I really need to answer it? Spell it out for you?” She laughs softly, “I’m comfortable here. I feel safe here, with you.”

“Nowhere’s safe, Lu. You said it yourself.” Joel feels like a dick the moment he says it, but he’s trying to keep it light, almost afraid to let this go any further, even if he wants it to.

“I know that. What I mean is this. Lying here like this. It feels nice.” She knows she’s doing a terrible job at explaining herself, but he’s caught her off guard.

“Yeah. I get you.” He admits, because he’s not so much of a jerk that he’ll let her confess that and not be honest in return.

“I know you do.” She adjusts herself, fingers playing idly with the fabric of his shirt. “Get me, I mean.”

It takes him a moment to formulate a response; he’s almost ashamed of how distracted her touch makes him, as though he hadn’t been running his hands up and down her back a short while ago. As though he hadn’t been distracting her just as much, even if he doesn’t know it.

“Be a shit team if I didn’t, huh?” His hand moves to briefly cover hers, planning on giving it a light squeeze of reassurance before letting go.

Lucy has other plans, flipping her hand over and interlocking her fingers with his, surprising both of them.

“What are you doing?” He asks, truly surprised by her touch.

“Tell me to stop, and I will.” There’s a quiet determination in her voice, something he’s heard only hints of before. Not like this.

“I’m not gonna tell you to stop.” Joel says finally, “Hell, I got you wrapped up against me. How’s it any different?”

He’s being deliberately vague, toying with her. He doesn’t mean to, but he’s curious how far she’ll push it. He’s almost glad she’s making the first steps.

“To keep warm.” She reminds him, “that’s why I said… tell me to stop if you want me to.”

“I don’t want you to stop, honestly. This is nice.”

He means that; it’s been far too damn long since he held anyone like this, let alone had someone hold his hand the way she’s holding him, her smaller thumb tracing over his, rubbing little circles. It’s soothing, and quite frankly probably the only tiny piece of serenity they’ll get for a while.

“I’m glad.” There’s a sheer honesty in her voice, even with it pitched so low, so as not to wake Ellie.

He sighs, weighing his options in his head, fighting a losing battle with himself if he’s honest. Maybe it’s strange to even be considering any sort of romantic entanglement when laying in the basement of someone else’s house, when that someone else is dead in the bedroom the floor above. But somehow, Joel thinks, Bill and Frank would understand. Here, in this house, where their story began and ultimately ended… why shouldn’t it be the place something else starts too?

“Hey, you okay in there?” Lucy tilts her head up to look at him, eyes searching his face, trying to figure out what he’s thinking.

“Yeah. Just thinking.”

“Escape route?” She’s only half joking, so used to him constantly being wired, attuned to their surroundings.

“Not quite.”

“Then what? Is everything alright?” Truly she sounds concerned, which in itself is touching. Maybe it once annoyed him that she gave a shit, but now? It’s grown on him.

“Everything’s fine. Honestly.”

She’s still looking at him like she doesn’t quite believe him, like she’s trying to work him out. Fuck it. Why shouldn’t this be the place something else begins too? Isn’t that what they’d have wanted? Isn’t that why Bill left him an entire goddamn arsenal? To protect those he cares about? So maybe that’s a foul mouthed teenager and a woman he used to help scavenge black market medicine with. Better than the alternative. Better than the aching emptiness of being alone.

Lucy’s still looking at him, lips slightly parted.

“Ah, what the hell.” Joel mutters, and tilts his head down so he can connect his mouth with hers.

It’s not the perfect moment to kiss her, not really. They’re barely above freezing cold in the basement of their dead friends’ house, with their antsy charge asleep twelve feet away, but it feels right nonetheless, and hell, it may be the only chance he gets.

Seize the fucking day, or whatever whoever said that shit said.

He’s almost surprised by how soft her mouth is; honestly, in a world without makeup, or very little of it, he knows her singular concession to vanity is chapstick, if she can find it. She doesn’t waste her time trying to find box dye or eyeliner or anything else that she once used daily, lets her hair be streaked with silver in places without shame or concern. She wears practical clothes to keep herself comfortable and protected, usually keeps her hair tied back for safety. And yet somehow, somehow, she has the softest goddamn mouth he’s ever kissed.

She half pulls away, just for a second, her eyes searching his once more. She must have found some sort of answer in his gaze, because she doesn’t hesitate to lean back in to initiate another kiss.

Lucy’s younger than him, it’s true, but not by so much that she’s inexperienced; that much is clear by their second kiss, by the way her teeth nip gently at his bottom lip, almost demanding better access to his mouth. He doesn’t remotely hesitate to let her, lips parting, letting their tongues entwine as he pulls her tighter against his chest, holding her there for a moment before he rolls them, carefully, propping himself up on one elbow so he’s not putting his entire weight on top of her.

She breaks the kiss once more, glances over to the other occupant of the room. Joel looks too. Still dead asleep.

“We’ll have to be quiet.” He breathes into her ear, dropping a kiss below her jaw. “Can you do that?”

A little smirk is her first answer.

“I’m sure I can.” She hums, undoes the top button of his new borrowed shirt so she can lean up and drop a kiss to his collarbone.

Once, she might have bitten, left a little mark, but since the outbreak, biting one another has sort of lost any amorous appeal. Thanks, cordyceps.

Still, the kiss there is intimate enough, considering. He doesn’t stop her, lets her hands wander down his chest, settling there for a moment before they slide under his shirt, fingertips tracing every old scar she can find, like she’s committing every inch of him to memory.

His hand - the one that isn’t occupied propping himself up, slides along her side, thumb rubbing circles on her hip. It’s the most he’s touched another person in months. Years, maybe. He can’t say he dislikes it; it’s unfamiliar, sure, to be touching another person in a caring and intimate way, but he’s certainly not opposed to it at all.

“Joel…”

He’s not entirely sure, but it almost sounds like a plea. One he’s more than happy to answer, letting his hand drift to the button of her jeans. He’s gotta admit, he’s glad he can get them undone with one hand, not wanting to appear as out of practise as he realistically is.

Her hands slide out of his shirt to help tug her jeans down, not fully off, but out of the way. Neither of them are stupid enough to undress fully, not in their surroundings. They’ll make do, and Lucy does, shaking one foot loose from her pants, keeping them looped around her other ankle. Their shirts can stay on, not wanting to waste time or expose themselves too fully.

As her hands move again, he leans down into another kiss; it’s his turn to nip at her lips this time, leaning right into her as she gets his jeans undone. It only takes her a moment, considering she has both her hands to work with.

Speaking of hands. He has one free, and he decides to make use of it, rubbing his fingers across her hips, now bare to him, just watching how she responds to each little touch. He doesn’t get much time to observe her, though; she seems far more interested in kissing him, which is fine, it’ll at least keep her relatively quiet as things progress. It’s a shame; honestly, he almost wishes they were back in his apartment in the QZ, or hers, somewhere where he could coax all sorts of interesting sounds out of her and not care about the volume. But things have changed, and they’re here now, and that necessitates they be as quick and quiet as possible.

It’s almost disappointing. He would have liked to take his time, but well. He’ll take the situation as it is. His fingers move inwards, across her thigh, slowly, teasing her, their lips still locked together, her tongue teasing at his bottom lip between kisses.

He can tease right back, letting his fingers slide between her thighs, pausing just before he reaches his target to break their kiss.

“Remember what I said about quiet.” He warns, a gentle reminder whispered into her ear. She hums her assent, her fingers carding through his silver streaked hair, as though she can’t get enough of just simply touching him.

He understands the feeling, truly, but he has other plans, beyond touching her hair. His fingers trail along her inner thigh, amused to find her already soaked and waiting for him. Amused, yes, but aroused, too; his thumb finds the little bundle of nerves at the apex of her core, rubs it slowly, watches her eyes widen, her teeth sink into her lip to keep herself from making a sound.

He finds himself smirking, just a little, rubbing slow little circles on her sensitive skin, fingers skimming across wetness, spreading it, coating his fingertips in it.

Her lips part in a silent gasp as he slowly slides two fingers inside her, giving her a warning look as he curls them, buried to the knuckle inside her soaked heat. He can feel himself aching against the fabric of his jeans; even unbuttoned, he feels constricted, a dull aching need throbbing in him.

“Been thinking about this for a while,” he admits, voice still low and sensual in her ear, “maybe not in this setting, but I’ll take it.”

He keeps slowly moving his fingers, pumping them in and out, agonisingly slow, wanting to watch her reaction, wanting her to beg him for more. He knows her well, knows her better than he’d like to admit, and he knows damn well she’ll crumble eventually.

It comes sooner than he expected; he can feel her tensing up, her back arched up, her chest pressing flush against his, her entire body trembling. And somehow, somehow, she manages to stay almost completely silent, burying her face in his chest to muffle the tiniest of whimpers that fall past her parted lips.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, pulling his fingers out of her slowly, “just ride it out. You’re okay. I got you.”

Her whimpers fade as she recovers, lies back, gazes at him with half-shut, adoring eyes. Fuck, why has he never done this before? All this time…

He wipes his soaked fingers on his pants, pausing just a moment before he moves the offending fabric out the way, tugging them down slightly, freeing himself. He damn near sighs himself when her hand wraps around his length, stroking slowly, her thumb caressing the tip of him.

“I want you so bad,” she whispers, leaning up to kiss him softly, “you have no idea…”

He laughs, a quietly amused chuckle.

“I’m getting an idea, darling. Don’t worry. It’s nowhere near as much as I’ve wanted you.”

It feels wrong, in a way, how long he’s wanted her, since the first time they ventured out of the QZ together, since she proved herself a capable survivor, since she back talked him and brought a smile to his face.

Her impossibly soft mouth curves into a smile.

“Then take me,” she whispers against his lips, “I’m yours, Joel. All yours.”

As she speaks, her hand tightens slightly around him, guiding him between her legs, rubbing the head of his length against her dripping sex.

“Mine.” He repeats softly, before he sinks into her, slowly, inch by inch. He has the foresight to cover her mouth with his, to muffle the soft moan that falls from her lips.

Fuck, she feels so good. So warm and tight around him, her velvet walls tightening and pulsing as he buries himself to the hilt.

Her fingers ball into the flannel of his shirt as she returns his eager, desperate kiss, wrapping her freed leg around his waist loosely.

He breaks the kiss, takes a breath, before he slowly starts to move. Her head falls back against the sleeping mat, eyes half closed as her leg tightens around his waist, drawing him in deeper. In spite of himself, a low groan tears from his chest.

“Careful there, baby girl,” he murmurs, “careful.”

He’s warning himself as much as he is her, reminding himself to keep his head as best he can. It’s difficult, so difficult, when her fingers are curled in his shirt, when she’s so tight and wet around him, when her breathing is becoming more and more frantic as he starts to move again.

Lucy leans up to pull him against her, her lips brushing his throat.

“Joel…”

He understands what she’s asking, without her having to say it; he picks up the pace, lets his hips rock against hers a little harder, a little faster. He has to bury his face in her shoulder to muffle his own sounds; it’s been so long since he was intimate with someone, and she’s so desperate for him, one of her hands leaving his shirt to tangle in salt and pepper curls.

They’re both being pushed to the limit, trying to keep as silent as possible, not wanting to wake Ellie, trying to keep their noise as low as they possibly can, quieter than the low hum of the generator Bill kept down here, just in case, always switched on and wired to the security system.

“You feel so good,” Lucy whispers, lifts her leg slightly higher around his waist, wraps it tighter, keeping him buried inside her. Her voice shakes as she whispers it, as he keeps up the deep, steady thrusts, in and out of her.

“Mm, you have no idea, baby girl. No idea how good you feel. How are you so fucking wet?” He can’t help the low moan that he lets out into her ear as his hips steadily collide with hers, harder and faster, chasing both of their release.

She can’t answer, not a full word, only tiny whimpers as she clings to him, raking her fingers through his hair. She can’t get enough of touching him, of feeling him close to her, the scratch of his beard on the skin of her throat.

“So close…” she whispers, back arched up against him, “don’t stop…”

“Not a chance, baby girl. Not a chance.” He murmurs, picking up his pace once again. Chances are he’ll feel this in his lower back and his hips tomorrow, but he’s beyond caring. All that matters is her, and the pleasure building between them, and her soft, soft mouth, kissing at every inch of him she can reach.

His mouth finds hers, captures it in a deep kiss, letting his tongue sweep her mouth as she clings to him, feels her tighten around him, feels her entire body tremble as he brings her to a steady climax, feels her soak every inch of his length as he buries himself to the very hilt inside her. Her moans and whimpers of pure pleasure are muffled by their kiss, her hand tightening in his hair for the briefest moment before she goes limp, lets her hand fall from his hair, caressing his face gently before her hand falls.

“I know baby, I know. Let go for me,” he murmurs, presses a kiss to her forehead, “that’s it, darling, breathe through it…”

She whimpers again, links her fingers with his.

Regrettably, Joel realises he can’t hold back much longer, not with how tight she is, the fluttering of her around him. His mind is hazy with pleasure, becoming more and more clouded with each snap of his hips.

He presses deep one final time, rolls his hips into hers slowly, before he reluctantly pulls out of her warm heat, spilling his release onto her stomach with a low groan against her lips.

The temptation to finish inside her had been overwhelming, but he wasn’t about to risk any complications. Not in this world.

Joel rests his forehead against hers, breathing heavily. Lucy glances over to ensure they’re still as alone as they can be, before she exhales, sighs, looks down at their joined hands and smiles weakly.

“That’s it,” he sighs, “fuck…”

He’s most certainly going to feel this in the morning, but he’s in no rush to roll away from her; he moves so he’s no longer on top of her, tucks himself back into his jeans and gives her a moment to pull her own pants back on. Once she’s redressed, he pulls her right back into his arms, inhaling the scent of her hair, their mingled sweat.

“You alright there, old timer?” She whispers, pure tease and thinly veiled adoration.

Joel huffs.

“This old timer just made you come so hard you went limp. Smartass.” He kisses her forehead and she giggles softly.

“Yeah, but I’m your smartass.” Her fingers trace the lines of his face, committing every little wrinkle and detail to memory. Just in case.

“True enough,” he agrees, pulling her closer against his chest.

Joel isn’t one to half ass things; he’s a stoic bastard at times, sure, but he’s protective as hell when he cares, and hell, he cares about her. He wasn’t kidding when he said she was his, and they both know it.

“Joel?” There’s a hesitation in her voice as she says his name. It’s a harsh contrast to the soft, adoring reverence with which she spoke minutes before.

“Yeah?”

“Are you gonna pretend this never happened in the morning?” There’s a raw fear in the way she asks it, the way she doesn’t sugarcoat it or dress it up. He likes that about her. That she’s brutally honest.

“No.” He says finally, “there’s no going back. I’m not gonna shut you out like that. It’s… not easy for me. You know that. But … for you? I’ll try.”

“I know it’s not easy.” She agrees, fingertips tracing in his hair, her other hand splayed on his chest, “I just… that’s all I want. For you to try. I just want you.”

“I know. Don’t worry, baby girl. You’ve got me.” He presses a soft kiss to her lips before he kisses her forehead once more.

He’s a lot of things, but he’s not a liar. Not to her. Never to her.

She hums happy agreement, “You know you’ve got me. Til the very end.”

“I know.” He assures her, shifts the blankets tighter around them. “Try get some sleep, darling. I’ll be here when you wake up. Then we can hit the road.”

“Hmm,” she sighs, nuzzles her face into his shoulder. “You should get some sleep too.”

“I plan on it. Someone tired me out.” He chuckles, surprised at his own good mood, in spite of everything he’s lost recently.

“Your own fault.” Lucy replies, her voice heavy with sleepiness as she settles against him.

Try as he might to fight his own fatigue, he can feel it overwhelming him. He’s exhausted, warm and comfortable, and the weight of her in his arms is so goddamn inviting.

“Not a fault.” He mumbles, but she’s already asleep, unable to answer him.

———

Morning dawns, but Joel is awake long before he originally planned to be. He wants to take an inventory of supplies, pack up Bill’s truck, and hit the road, but first he wants to allow himself a moment.

It’s been so long since he simply lay in a bed with someone, let alone allowed himself to hold someone in such an intimate way.

Lucy’s still asleep, her head tucked on his shoulder, arm draped over him, legs tangled with his. They’ve shared a bed before, but only for necessity. Never have they allowed themselves to become intimate before, and now…

If he thought he was protective of her before, it’s nothing compared to the dull ache in his chest whenever he looks down at her now, taking in every detail of her sleeping face.

“I’m yours,” she had said, “all yours.”

There had been so much longing in her voice, going beyond lust and physical need. He doesn’t think he deserves it, and yet. And yet he isn’t going to refuse her. Not when he so desperately, deeply, needs her to be his.

He sighs. Presses a kiss to her forehead, untangles himself from her just as she stirs.

“Time to get going?” She asks, her voice thick and heavy with sleep.

“Yeah. Time to pack up and move on.” He almost wishes they could stay in this stupid bunker for a little longer, but that’s not their path. Wyoming calls. His brother waits.

Lucy doesn’t argue, just sits herself up, untangles her hair, braids it back and slips her boots on.

“I’ll pack up some supplies from down here.” She offers. He likes that about her; she asked him for reassurance before they slept, but she’s not about to ask for it every five minutes. They both know everything’s changed between them now, but simultaneously, nothing has. All they’ve really done is act on what was already there.

“Great idea. Some rations, some ammo. Whatever you think we need.” Joel shoves his own shoes on, surveys the monitors for a moment. All quiet.

“I’ll get Ellie ready, too.”

“I’ll fuel up the truck, pack a few things. Come on up when you’re ready.” Almost without thinking, he drops a kiss to her lips on his way past, climbs the ladder, pushes the bunker door open, and disappears into the morning light.

Lucy stares after him for a moment before she’s interrupted by a soft snicker. Turning, she finds Ellie sitting up and staring at her, grinning.

“What?”

“I fuckin’ knew you two were a thing.” Ellie shrugs, unravels herself from her blanket and tosses her jacket over her shoulders.

“Wh-?” Lucy doesn’t even try to deny it.

“I saw that. And I see the way you two look at each other. It’s gross. You’re both old.” Ellie makes a face as she starts to pack MRE rations into her backpack.

“I’m not that old!” Lucy protests, somewhat lamely.

“Not as old as Joel, that’s for sure.” Ellie smirks, then laughs when Lucy opens her mouth. “I’m just fucking with you. I don’t care. Maybe it’ll get him to stop being such a stone cold asshole.”

Lucy laughs in spite of herself, stocks her own backpack with another box of ammunition for her new rifle and her handgun, before shoving a few rations of her own on top.

“Not gonna argue there,” she agrees, “c‘mon. He’s fuelling up so we can leave. Let’s go.”

“Back to the road. Yay.” Ellie sticks her tongue out, takes one last look around the bunker, then heads for the ladder.

Lucy follows her, taking one last look at the rumpled sleeping mat on the floor, a small smile crossing her face.

She’s not sure where they’ll go from here, but it doesn’t matter. She has Joel, and he has her, and that’s all that matters right now.

#my writing #rue unconditionally #pedro pascal #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller x oc #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #pedro pascal character fic #pedro pascal characters #tagged: jocy

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acaciusbride · 1 year

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Unconditionally: Joel Miller x OC (Part 2/10)

Summary: Lucy loves Joel Miller unconditionally. A cross country trip to escort an immune, bad mouthed teenager to safety might just prove it.

CWs: canon typical violence / unsafe sex / age gap / language / spoilers (if anyone cares) / canon divergence / mentions of attempted sexual assault / themes of previous suicidal tendencies

Note: this work is intended for adult audiences only. It is not strictly canon compliant, and was originally posted to A03 when I first ventured into the fandom.

Chapter Index: 1 /

Lucy kicks at a stone as she walks along the row of abandoned vehicles, jerry can in her left hand, swinging slightly.

As far as days go, it’s a nice one. Clear sky, a slight breeze. No people, no infected, just her and Joel and Ellie in Bill’s old truck, pulled over at a rest stop for gas.

It just doesn’t last as long as it used to. Twenty years has watered it down. It’s still usable, but nowhere near what it once was.

Ellie’s gone inside to use the bathroom, to try and loot anything that might still be useful. It’s possible; they’re in the middle of nowhere, it’s likely there’s still some decent loot in there. Lucy doesn’t bother to check. She’s got her backpack full of bullets, MREs, and a change of clothes. A couple boxes of tampons. Some tylenol. She’s set, as far as she’s concerned.

Her new rifle is slung over one shoulder, her handgun at her hip. Oh, and she can still feel the heat of Joel’s mouth on hers as he fucked her like the world was ending, whenever she takes a moment to close her eyes, even though it’s been days. Yeah. It’s a good fucking day.

Lucy crouches down by the fuel tank of an old wagon, pops the cap, and inserts the drip hose. The whole process takes about ten minutes, but the result is a full jerry can. She has to resist the urge to whistle as she practically saunters back to where Joel is crouching, draining the remnants of another vehicle.

“Got some gas.” She drops her bounty carefully. “Where’s Ellie?”

“Waiting in the truck. She found some god awful pun book.” Joel sighs, as he straightens up. “Good thing you found gas too. This shit isn’t gonna last like it used to.”

“We’ll make do.” Lucy bends to pick up her own can, then gives him a fleeting smile. “We’ve got this.”

“Since when were you such a damn optimist?” He asks, one eyebrow raised in amusement.

“Who knows? It’s a mystery. Maybe my entire outlook has changed.” Lucy laughs, leans up and presses a light, brief kiss to his lips.

They can’t get distracted, not here, not now, but it’s just a soft affirmation that she’s there, that she sees him, that she cares. He tastes like gasoline, but she doesn’t care.

“Yeah? Can’t say I mind.” Joel takes her can from her, leads her back to the truck, a small smile on his face as he fills the tank with the contents of one, placing the other in the back for later use. “Fair warning, Ellie’s pun book might kill that.”

Lucy laughs as she swings herself into the passenger seat.

“We’ll see.”

Joel just shakes his head and starts the engine, leaving Lucy to ride shotgun and keep an eye on the road.

She remembers the first handful of times she ever met him; the way she’d been the middle man for those in the QZ who needed medicine, the one doing the brokering, until Joel kept bringing back the wrong drugs. Not on purpose, of course, but he wasn’t a pharmaceutical expert, he didn’t understand that one sort of antibiotic may not be the right kind.

So Lucy had bartered her own ration cards, her own resources, for him to take her with him out of the QZ to collect the drugs herself. He’d been stoic and grouchy about it at first, until he’d seen her shoot.

They’d done a handful of runs like that, where she’d paid him to take her out, to watch her back. On the maybe seventh time, he’d just shown up at her door and asked if she was coming. No payment exchanged. No mention of it ever again. They’d just slid into an easy routine, Joel smuggling in whatever he was paid for, Lucy bringing in medication for the poor of the QZ, watching each other’s backs whenever they ventured out together.

She never asked about his relationship with Tess; they worked together, they were close, that was all she knew. All she wanted to know. She’d gotten along well enough with the older woman, but they’d never clicked the way she and Joel had.

Lucy almost felt guilty that she had lived, that she was the one making this journey, that Tess hadn’t made it, but she knew it was in no way her fault. She found herself wondering whether Joel wished it had been the other way round, even with their newfound intimacy. That wasn’t something she wanted to dwell on, knowing it would overwhelm her if she allowed herself to think on it too much.

She and Joel had ventured out of the QZ together, fought together, protected each other. When a man in the streets of the QZ had threatened her, Joel had beaten him within an inch of his life; that desperate, primal need to protect taking over. Lucy thought she might have been attracted to him before, but that moment had been the defining moment for her, the moment she knew she was desperately in love with the older man. The moment he’d cradled her in his arms, knuckles bruised and bloody from his vengeance on her attacker.

She could still hear his voice as he carried her home.

“I got him for you, darling. He’s not gonna hurt you. Nobody’s gonna hurt you ever again.”

How could she not love him?

She took a deep breath. Then another. Opened her eyes. They were still on the open, abandoned road, the late afternoon sun fading slowly into what promised to be another chilly night. She turned her gaze to Joel, her eyes taking in his side profile, a small smile on her face.

“Want me to drive for a bit?” Lucy offers, forcing herself to look back to the road. She could have looked at him for much longer, but she knows it’s silly; she’s too old to be lovesick, but Joel drags it out of her.

“Nah, we’re stopping soon.” Joel nods to the forest on their right, before he makes a turn into the field, cutting across it to get to the forest.

“Making camp for the night?” Ellie leans forward from the back seat, “Cool.”

“Put your seatbelt back on.” Joel grumbles, drawing a groan from Ellie and another small smile from Lucy.

He drives them into the thicket of trees, keeps going for a few miles before he finally pulls the truck to a stop.

“This will do.”

Joel grabs his rifle and slides from the truck, beginning to unload a few supplies from the back. Lucy stares after him for a moment before Ellie thumps the back of her seat.

“God, you two are fucking gross. Quit staring so we can eat.”

Lucy hates that she blushes as she slides out of her seat, leaves her rifle in the cab but checks her handgun at her hip.

“Shut up.” She manages as a retort, before she moves to help, leaving Ellie snorting with laughter behind.

The trio sit around the portable camp cooker, tin plates of canned ravioli on their laps. Ellie eats like she’s never seen food before, like she’s not sure where the next meal will come from.

Lucy can’t say she blames the kid, honestly. She knows what it’s like to be hungry.

“Slow down.” Joel admonishes, looking up from his own plate to stare at Ellie.

“This is slow.” Ellie retorts. “What am I even eating anyway?”

“This is uh, 20 year old chef boyardee ravioli.” Joel pokes at the food.

“That guy was good.” Ellie enthuses.

“I actually have to agree.” Joel admits; many a night when he couldn’t be assed cooking were saved by the canned meals. Not the best in terms of health, but hey, it tasted alright.

Lucy smiles, picking at her own plate.

“Personally, I preferred the beef stew.”

“Bet that’s hard to find now.” Ellie sighs, wraps her coat around herself. “Can we make a fire?”

“Now why am I gonna tell you no?” Joel asks, not with any heat to it, more in the sense of a father teaching his daughter a lesson.

“Cause it’ll attract infected?” Ellie hazards a guess.

“Nah.” Lucy says.

“Fungus ain’t that smart. Besides, we’re too far out for infected. It’s people you gotta worry about out here.” Joel scrapes the remnants of dinner from his plate, grimaces at the thought.

“People? Why? They gonna rob us?” Ellie sounds somewhat amused, “You guys have big guns.”

“They’d do more than rob us.” Lucy says, exchanging a dark look with Joel. She knows he’s thinking of that night in the QZ once more, of the man who had attacked her.

Ellie takes the hint, her expression dropping into one of concern before she masks it behind cool teenage indifference.

“No fires, then.” She seized a sleeping bag from next to them, unrolled it and sniffed. “Huh, this actually smells good.”

“You got Frank’s, then.” Joel quips, surprising both of his companions with his humour.

“Yeah, yeah. You two can share, right?”

“Don’t see why not.” Joel’s expression betrays nothing, even when Ellie stares at them, her expression loaded.

She’s almost disappointed she doesn’t get a reaction, huffs, settles into her sleeping bag, rolls with her back to the adults. Lucy assumes it’s their ward’s way of giving them some privacy.

Out here, in the woods, there’s no chance of taking off shoes, of sneaking any sort of true intimacy. Lucy double knots her bootlaces before she slides into the sleeping bag, and, even more enticingly, Joel’s waiting arms.

She wasn’t sure what she’d expected; perhaps him to pretend nothing had happened, in spite of his promises. She’s glad to have been wrong, rests her head on his chest, inhaling the gasoline gunpowder sweat scent of him.

“Hey, Joel?” Ellie calls from a few feet away.

“Yeah?” He’s instantly alert, tense against her at the call.

“Those people… there’s no way anyone’s gonna find us out here, right?” Ellie asks, trying so hard to be nonchalant, but her anxiety is peeking through in her tone.

“Nobody’s gonna find us.” Joel affirms, and Ellie sighs in relief.

“Cool. Cool.” She flops back down into her sleeping bag, rolls over again.

Joel sighs, still tense. Lucy immediately understands his plan.

“Wanna take turns keeping watch?” She whispers.

“No, you get your sleep. I might need you to drive tomorrow, okay?” He presses a soft kiss to her lips, then her forehead.

“Okay.” Lucy nods, tries not to look too pathetic as Joel slips from her embrace and wriggles from the sleeping bag, getting to his feet and collecting his rifle.

She wants to stay awake, truly she does, but it’s easy to fall asleep knowing the man she loves is watching over her, knowing he’d never let anything happen to her or their ward.

And so sleep she does, whilst Joel keeps vigil over both woman and child, a one man army against the silence and still of the night.

——

Joel’s exhausted, but he tries not to let it show as he packs up the truck the next morning, waiting for his coffee to brew. Lucy wakes first, sits up, crawls out of the sleeping bag. Her expression is one of half awake, regretful alertness as she surveys their surroundings, rolls up the sleeping bag and crosses to dump it in the truck bed.

“Did you get any sleep at all?” She asks, her eyes roaming over him.

Her concern might have once irritated him, but now? It’s endearing.

“Not really.” It’s a half truth - he gave up any hope of sleep and spent the night on guard.

“Joel…” she reprimands, might have gone further in telling him off if he doesn’t have other plans; he leans in to kiss her instead of talking.

Instantly she melts into his touch, leans in closer, her hand cupping his cheek.

“Don’t worry too much, baby.” He says softly, “I’d rather you were both safe. Besides. There’s coffee.”

The smell of the brewing coffee wakes Ellie; the young girl shuffles over to the camping stove still in her sleeping bag, gingerly sniffs the coffee pot before opening it and swiftly recoiling.

“What the FUCK is that?” She exclaims.

“What? You don’t like coffee?” Joel asks, straight faced.

Ellie pulls a face in response, complains about the smell the entire time they load up the truck, even when the coffee is poured into a sealed thermos.

“Is that really what those Starbucks in the QZ used to sell?” Ellie asks once they’re on the road, Lucy in the back this time.

“Well, it was fresher than the stuff Bill hoarded, but yeah. That’s what they sold.” Joel nods, glancing over at the map on Ellie’s lap.

“Smells like… burnt shit.” Ellie comments, nodding in satisfaction at her own assessment.

Joel’s response is to give her the side eye and loudly gulp from his thermos, leaving Lucy shaking with silent laughter in the back seat.

“Just read the goddamn map.” He says finally, somewhat unsettled by how normal this all feels, how easily they’ve settled into an almost family unit type feeling.

He doesn’t dislike it, but he dislikes having something - someone - to lose.

——

Lucy’s never been to Kansas City before, never planned on going, let alone planned on crouching in an old abandoned building, hiding from a full blown militia whilst Joel shows Ellie the correct way to hold the gun she took from Bill and Frank’s place.

The gun she fired to save Joel’s life, when Lucy had been powerless to help him, trapped six feet away. She owes the teen a life debt, in her eyes. They’ve had close calls before, but nothing like this. She never, ever wants to be so powerless to help him ever again. Turns out he’s not the only one with a deeply protective streak.

“What’s the plan?” Ellie says finally.

“Head for that big apartment building. Get a good view of the city, try and spot a way out.” Joel answers.

Lucy looks at him briefly, the way his hair is mussed, the small blood spatter across his face from where he’d put that young man out of his misery. It hadn’t been comfortable to watch, to watch a man barely above a child beg for his life, but Lucy can’t say she isn’t used to Joel being violent. It’s what he does; he has a violent, feral side to him that comes out when the people he cares about are threatened, and somehow, somehow, she and Ellie have made that extremely minuscule list.

“Cross the city, with those guys out on the street?” Ellie stares at him in disbelief.

“We’ll wait them out, then sneak through. It’ll be fine on foot.” Joel assured her, shifts his backpack onto his back.

They’ve lost a fair amount of supplies with the loss of the truck, but thankfully they were all smart enough to heavily stock their backpacks, just in case. The damn things are heavy, but at least they have a few basics to get them through.

“If you say so.” Ellie shrugs, then, “it’s gone quiet out there.”

“Time to make a move.” Lucy says, checking the ammunition clip for her rifle.

“Absolutely.” Joel turns to Ellie, “put your gun in your pack.”

As they move out, Ellie slips her handgun into the pocket of her sweater instead.

——

“C’mon, get up, you lazy ass.” Ellie sticks her hand out to Joel, who’s sitting slumped against the wall of their pilfered apartment.

“Lazy ass? I’m fifty six years old, you little shit.” Joel grumbles, but nonetheless takes the teenagers hand and allows her to haul him to his feet. Lucy returns from her sweep of the apartment, lowering her gun when she reaches them.

“All clear.”

Thirty three floors up, and his legs are killing him. His legs, and his lower back.

“Fifty six? No fucking way.” Ellie snorts, then turns to Lucy, “are you that old too?”

“Do I look that old?” Lucy asks, without rancour.

“No, I’m just fucking with you. How old are you, anyway?”

“Thirty six.” Lucy admits, as the trio cross into the living room, pull cushions off the couches to sleep on. Makeshift beds will do just fine.

“Fuck, still ancient.” Ellie snorts, throwing herself down onto her makeshift bed whilst Joel spreads broken glass onto the carpet by the entryway.

Lucy doesn’t argue; she can imagine how old she must seem, to a fourteen year old. Remembers how old grown adults seemed to her at that age. The only thing that prickles her is the reminder of the age difference between herself and Joel; twenty years separate them, even if they don’t acknowledge it. In this new world, it doesn’t seem to matter too much, but she still doesn’t like to think on it too much. In case it reminds him, and he decides he’d prefer someone older and wiser.

She had always worried he’d prefer Tess, but that seems like an unfair fear; he chose her, after all, and she doesn’t want to compete with a dead woman. That isn’t fair.

“Hey, Joel? Are you gonna hear if anyone comes in?” Ellie asks as Joel flops himself down beside Lucy, draping his arm around her waist.

“Why wouldn’t I?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Noticed you don’t hear so good out your right ear.” Ellie shrugs.

“I’ll hear it just fine.” Joel frowns, turns away from her, makes a big show of laying on his other side. Lucy takes the opportunity to rest her head against his back, wrap her arm around him. It’s nice to be the big spoon for once.

There’s silence for a few minutes, then…

“Hey guys?” Ellie’s voice fills the silence.

“Yeah?” Both adults respond immediately.

“Did you know diarrhea is hereditary?”

“Huh?”

“Yeah. It runs in your jeans.” Ellie says, deadpan, then cracks up laughing. It takes a moment, then Lucy joins her.

Joel can’t help it, he starts laughing too.

“That is so goddamn stupid.”

“You laughed, motherfucker.” Ellie says between laughs of her own.

“Yeah…” Joel admits, still laughing, “guess I’m losing it.”

“You’re absolutely losing it.” Ellie agrees.

“Shut up and go to sleep.” Joel grumbles, but he’s still laughing; Lucy can feel his body shaking slightly against her, buries her own smile in the back of his shirt.

It’ll be nice for them all to grab some sleep, considering Joel went without last time.

Secure in the knowledge of weapons within arms reach, being thirty three floors up, and the glass on the floor, the trio settle in for the night, exhausted and desperately in need of rest.

——

The makeshift bed made from couch cushions is soft, and Lucy’s body heat is warm and comfortable against him; it’s no wonder Joel manages to get a decent sleep, the best sleep he’s had since they crashed at Bill and Frank’s place. At some point, he must have rolled over, to face Lucy and Ellie. Almost subconsciously wanting to be closer to them, to not turn his back.

Unfortunately, Ellie’s observation had been right; he can’t hear shit from his right ear. Which leads to him sleeping through the intrusion, right up until…

“Joel… JOEL!”

He jolts awake, sees Ellie knelt across from him with a gun to her head. Sees the kid standing over him, gun aimed at his chest.

“Don’t.” Lucy’s voice is ice beside him. “Don’t point that fucking thing at him. Point it at me.”

The kid ignores her, glances to the young man who has a gun trained on Ellie.

“Don’t move. Don’t reach for your weapons.” He instructs. “You don’t hurt us, we won’t hurt you. You good?”

Joel just glares. Ellie rolls her eyes. Lucy doesn’t move, but her gaze is murderous.

“Be cool.”

“Oh, yeah, this is great.” Joel snaps, “totally fine.”

The kid - he’s barely older than Ellie, to Joel - keeps his gun up.

“Dude!” Ellie turns her head slightly to face the older kid, “he just has an asshole voice. It’s cool.”

The kid lowers his gun, then frowns.

“You guys got food?”

Lucy feels a little better the moment there’s not two raised guns in the room, but she probably still would have been explosively angry had the kid not asked that question; she’s venomously defensive of Joel, that’s a plain fact, but the question throws her off, really makes her look at the two boys - because that’s all they are, kids - who have taken them by surprise. The younger boy would barely be ten. The older of the duo, maybe nineteen or twenty, tops.

“We have a little to spare.” She says finally.

It’s not the weirdest situation Joel has ever found himself in, but it comes sort of close; him, Lucy, and three kids sitting around a lantern, passing round food.

“I’m Ellie, by the way.”

“I’m Henry. This is Sam.” The elder of the brothers introduces them both, as his younger brother points to himself and signs his name.

Ellie nudges Joel with her foot.

“I’m Joel, this is Lucy.” Joel considers for a moment, then passes another food package over to Sam. It’s almost unconscious, the way he treats kids that he comes across. Even if he doesn’t want to admit it, the paternal instinct is still enormously high in him, just buried.

——

“So that’s your genius plan?” Joel raises an eyebrow at Henry, arms crossed, clearly unimpressed.

“No, that’s my dicey as fuck plan, but it’s all we got, so.”

Lucy smiles in spite of the situation; she has to hand it to the kid, he’s got guts.

“I think we should go with it. Henry’s right, it’s all we got.” She offers, giving Joel her best reassuring look.

She knows it’s difficult for him to trust anyone; she’s much the same, but in this scenario? It’s probably best the five of them stick together.

“Yeah, alright.” Joel relents, hoists his backpack onto his shoulder. “Better get going, then.”

——

As Henry predicted, the tunnel is empty.

“See; what did I tell you?”

“We literally just got down here.” Joel says, exasperated, before turning to Ellie. “Get your gun out.”

Ellie nodded, pulling her weapon from the pocket of her hoodie. Joel stared at her; he was absolutely certain he had told her to put it in her backpack. Oh well. What’s the point in arguing about it.

“Keep your eyes open and your mouths shut. We don’t know for sure that it’s empty down here.” Joel said finally, taking the lead.

“Man, your dad’s such a pessimist.” Henry said, looking to Ellie.

“He’s not my dad.” Ellie responded, at the same time as Joel affirming the same thing.

“Huh.”

“Guys, look at this.” Lucy nodded to the walls, painted by children as they walked further into the tunnels.

“There were people down here?” Ellie stared as the group headed towards the door.

“Once, yeah.” Joel frowned, then threw out an arm to stop Sam from heading through the door first. “Absolutely not.”

“I’ve got it.” Lucy stepped in front, pushed the door open, gun raised.

The room beyond was clear; it had once been what looked like a school room, with paintings and posters and children’s activities still lying around.

“Can we stay here for a bit?” Ellie asked, watching Sam head for the drawing table.

Joel almost said no. Almost. But there was something about letting the two kids just… have a moment to be kids… that appealed to him. Give them a moment. Let them be free of the burden of this world for a moment.

“Yeah, alright. May as well wait it out until it gets dark, get some cover.” He flopped down into a chair, fine with being beaten for once.

——

The group emerged onto a darkened street, completely deserted. No people, no infected. Just quiet. Too quiet, for Joel’s liking.

“Not much further.” Henry said, “we just go across the river embankment, then we’re out.”

“Where are you guys gonna go? We’re going to Wyoming.” Ellie said, ignoring the look of irritation from Joel. “What? Wyoming’s got room for two more people, surely.”

Joel just shook his head.

“He’ll change his mind.” Ellie informed the two boys, “he always does. First he’s all, Ellie, no, not ever ever ever gonna happen.” She mimicked Joel’s gruff tone, “but then I just ask him like… a million more times and - SHIT!”

A bullet went whizzing past her head.

“Get down!” Joel dragged both Ellie and Lucy behind the nearest stationary car.

“Sniper.” Lucy peeked over the hood of the car. “One, coming from over there.”

“Thinking what I’m thinking?” Joel’s voice was grim, “we sneak round the back and take him out. Clear the way for these three.”

Lucy nodded.

“Wait; hang on. You can’t go out there, you’re gonna get killed!” Ellie protested.

Joel scoffed. “It’s dark and his aim is shit, he’s not gonna kill me.”

“Then he’ll kill us!”

He sighed. “You trust me?”

After a moment, Ellie nodded.

“Okay. Then stay here, with Henry and Sam. We got this. I’m not gonna let anyone hit you, ok?”

“Okay.”

“Okay. Lucy, let’s go.” Still crouched, the adults crept away, behind cars, dodging errant bullets as they went.

It was relatively easy to find the house, to creep up the stairs and find the sniper who was laying siege to them.

Lucy hadn’t expected an old man. She hadn’t expected him not to surrender. It was almost with great regret that Joel shot him in the head, before taking up the sniper rifle.

“Hold them in position! We’re almost there!” Came through the radio beside the fallen enemy.

Joel and Lucy exchanged panicked looks, peering out the window to see the approaching convoy.

“RUN! RUN!”

All hell broke loose.

——

Lucy was still shaking as they crossed the river; she had seen infected before. Plenty of infected. But one like that? That hideous, terrifying giant that had come out of the ground like a beast from hell itself? Yeah, she’d be having nightmares about that one for a while.

Joel, at least, had stopped shaking the moment they’d reunited with the three kids; she was so incredibly proud of him, of how he had silently gotten to work clearing the way, sniping any infected that got close to Ellie.

It was a side to him she had never seen; of course, she had seen him be protective. Been on the receiving end of it, too. But that? That sense of parental urgency to protect one’s child? She could only imagine that was how he had once been with Sarah, and now, reluctantly, Ellie.

Nobody spoke as they left Kansas City behind, finding an old motel a few miles out. As Ellie and Sam made themselves somewhat comfortable in the double bedroom, reading their comic books, Joel, Lucy and Henry checked the windows, barred the door, before finally sinking into chairs and allowing themselves to breathe.

“What an absolute fucking nightmare.” Lucy said finally, leaning her head on Joel’s shoulder.

“Gonna have to agree.” Henry commented, head against the wall, exhaling.

Joel said nothing, just watched Ellie and Sam huddled up together over a book, the latter teaching the former some of the sign language for the words.

“Look, I don’t know how we’re getting to Wyoming. Probably walking. But… if you want…”

The invitation was clear in the words, plain as day, even if Joel didn’t actually say it.

“Yeah. Yeah that’d be cool… it’d be nice for Sam to have a friend.” Henry looked over to the bedroom too, a small smile on his face. “I’ll tell him in the morning. Let them get some sleep first.”

“Good idea… you can tell them it’s bed time then.” Joel managed a small half smile, which Henry returned, getting to his feet.

“May as well get some sleep ourselves.” Lucy said, stretching out onto the floor, tucking her coat under her head. It wasn’t very comfortable, but it would do.

It would be better in the morning, when they could hit the road. Maybe, just maybe, they could be something resembling a family.

——

The comfortable, still, silence was broken by a piercing scream. Joel, Lucy and Henry jolted awake just as the bedroom door burst open, Ellie scrambling out before being tackled by…

“He’s infected…” Lucy’s voice was strained, aghast, as she backed up.

“Joel!!!” Ellie yelled, terror plain in her voice as she tried to wrestle her former friend off her, “help me!”

Henry turned his gun onto Joel as he stepped forward, horror plain in his features; for a moment there was a tense, horrible stand off, Joel and Lucy unable to move to help, Ellie struggling and screaming on the floor.

Almost in a trance, Henry turned the gun on what had once been his brother, and fired.

Ellie screamed again; Joel moved almost on instinct, to move to comfort her.

“Are you alright?” It was a stupid question, and he knew it; before he could get any further, Henry turned the gun on him.

“Whoa. Whoa.” Lucy held her hands up just as Joel did the same.

“Don’t… come on, Henry, give me the gun. It’s okay…” Joel’s tone was strained, but somehow still soothing, still empathetic.

Henry turned his gaze to the growing pool of blood on the floor.

“Sam…” his voice was almost a whisper as he lifted the gun to his temple and pulled the trigger.

Both Lucy and Ellie screamed together this time as he hit the floor. Joel said nothing, an aghast look across his face.

——

Joel doesn’t bury his dead; it’s not the world he’s used to. It’s harsh, yes, but you leave a comrade where they fall. That’s not the world he wants Ellie to know. It seems too cruel, after everything she’s already been through.

It’s for that reason that they wrap their fallen friends in bed sheets and carry them outside, to the dirt and grass opposite the motel, and dig graves.

It’s a stark contrast to shovelling ashes and dumping bodies into mass fire pits like back in the QZ, but it reminds him that they’re human.

Ellie places Sam’s writing pad on his grave; for some reason, she’s written “I’m sorry” on it. She doesn’t say anything else. Just picks up her backpack and dumps Joel’s at his feet, then starts walking.

“Which way’s west?”

“That way.” Lucy pointed.

“Then let’s go. There’s nothing here for us anymore.” Ellie turned away, not wanting to cry in front of the adults.

Joel sighed, took one last look at the graves, squeezed Lucy’s hand.

“Let’s get going.” He agreed, regret filling his voice as they followed Ellie onto the deserted, open road.

#my writing #rue unconditionally #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x oc #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fic #joel miller fic #tagged: jocy #the last of us #hbo tlou fic #ellie wiliams

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